Wheelie’s Challenge

by Chiah Wilder

  WHEELIE’S CHALLENGE

  AN INSURGENTS MC ROMANCE

  CHIAH WILDER

  Copyright © 2018 by Chiah Wilder

  Kindle Edition

  Editing by Lisa Cullian

  Cover design by Cheeky Covers

  Proofreading by Daryl Banner

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Please purchase only authorized additions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  I love hearing from my readers. You can email me at chiahwilder@gmail.com.

  Make sure you sign up for my newsletter so you can keep up with my new releases, special sales, free short stories, and other treats only available to newsletter readers. When you sign up, you will receive a FREE hot and steamy novella. Sign up at: http://eepurl.com/bACCL1.

  Visit me on facebook at facebook.com/AuthorChiahWilder

  Insurgent MC Series:

  Hawk’s Property

  Jax’s Dilemma

  Chas’s Fervor

  Axe’s Fall

  Banger’s Ride

  Jerry’s Passion

  Throttle’s Seduction

  Rock’s Redemption

  An Insurgent’s Wedding

  Outlaw Xmas

  Insurgents MC Romance Series: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Box Set (Books 1 – 4)

  Insurgents MC Romance Series: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Box Set (Books 5 – 8)

  Night Rebels MC Series:

  STEEL

  MUERTO

  DIABLO

  GOLDIE

  PACO

  SANGRE

  Steamy Contemporary Romance:

  My Sexy Boss

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Notes from Chiah

  Author’s Note

  About Army: Night Rebels MC

  Other Books by Chiah Wilder

  Prologue

  Borrego Springs, CA

  Ten years earlier

  The desert wind whipped into a frenzy, turning the sky opaque and the air rusty brown. Vinyl siding strained against house boards, and any loose objects disappeared in the swirling dust tornadoes that came off the valley floor. It was the type of wind that let sand infiltrate every sealed window and door. The constant howling made nerves jump, pulses race, and skin prickle.

  Kendra Elmore stared at the clock above the kitchen table, her insides tightening with each passing minute. Please let him be stranded. It was reasonable that Russ wouldn’t be able to make it to their small house. The way the wind blew and the sand pelted against the windows, Kendra guessed visibility had to be pretty close to zero. The last time she looked out the window, all she could see was dense spirals of twirling dust. She couldn’t even make out the palm trees that lined the streets, and they were only ten feet away.

  Kendra opened up the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. She’d have preferred a glass of wine or a bottle of beer, but her husband had made sure to drink every last drop of alcohol in the house. Plain orange juice would have to do, but it sure as hell wasn’t enough to help forget that Russ may burst in at any moment. She needed something to concentrate on.

  Boom! Kendra dropped the carton and it broke open on the kitchen floor. She stared at the pale orange liquid as it spread across the linoleum. Boom! Thunder cracked the sky again. Grabbing a dish towel from a rack, Kendra bent down and sopped up the mess. The pelting rain filled her ears until she thought they would burst. She threw the towel down on the counter, then covered them—if only the noise would stop. She had to think clearly. She had to remember if Russ had acted different that morning. Her life depended on it.

  Thrumming her fingers against her lips, Kendra closed her eyes. I should’ve left yesterday. How was she to know that the desert could bring such an awful storm? Ever since she’d been living in this small town in the middle of the Anza-Borrego Desert, she’d only known cloudless skies and an omnipresent sun for months on end. Russ had moved them from San Diego to Borrego Springs three years before, and up until now, she’d never experienced a sandstorm. Rain had been scant, and Kendra chalked up the deluge of water and sand pummeling the house to her bad luck. Something that she’d seemed to have for most of her life.

  That night, she was supposed to meet Lloyd and Reva. They were driving back to San Diego for an anniversary party their children planned for them. Thirty-five years? How the hell had they done it? For the most part, they seemed happy. Kendra never saw any bruises on Reva; she never saw the cautious look of fear in Reva’s eyes. She shook her head, craned her neck to see the clock again, and then paced between the kitchen and living room. I’m supposed to be halfway to San Diego. Kendra had been planning her escape for the past six months, quietly ingratiating herself to Lloyd and Reva and acting like everything was okay, even when Russ had beaten her especially hard, and she was pretty sure he didn’t suspect a thing. After six long years of marriage, Kendra was finally ready to throw in the towel. Each year, Russ grew more controlling, more suspicious, and just plain crazier. His latest delusion was accusing Kendra of having an affair. That one left a bitter taste in her mouth. If anyone was cheating, it was Russ. And he’s stupid enough to think that I don’t know. She stopped pacing and tilted her head toward the back door and listened: a scraping sound and then rattling. Probably the damn wind. Everyone in town knew that Russ and Destiny were hot and heavy … everyone but Destiny’s dad, Gary—the high school’s baseball coach. Destiny was barely legal, and Kendra wished she’d had the courage to tell Gary about the disgusting things her husband was doing to his daughter, but she was too afraid of Russ to breathe a word, so she kept silent. But her mind wasn’t quiet: It’d been planning her way out of this hell, but the damn storm blew in and ruined everything.

  The sound of her phone ringing echoed hollowly in the small room. Kendra cried out and grabbed it off the table, relief washing over her when she recognized Reva’s number.

  “Are you doing okay at your place?” Reva’s voice crackled over the storm.

  “I’m fine. How are you and Lloyd?”

  “We’re praying the wind doesn’t rip away our roof.”

  “I hope so too. Are you still planning to go to San Diego when this all dies down?”

  “Yes. This craziness is supposed to be gone by tomorrow morning. I’ll call and let you know when we can come by to pick you up.”

  Panic seized her, strangling her nerves. “No! Don’t call me,” she croaked, trying to swallow to moisten her parched thro
at.

  “Did you change your mind on coming? We can drop off your suitcase before we head out tomorrow.”

  “No. I’m still planning to go. I’ll just call you, that’s all. Will nine in the morning work?”

  “That’s fine. You take care of yourself. Wait … is Russ home?”

  Kendra heard the disdain in Reva’s voice when she said his name. “No. I don’t think he’ll make it in tonight. I haven’t heard from him.” He’s either drunk at the bar or shacking up with Destiny at the motel—or both. Either way, I’m glad he’s not with me.

  “I’ll hear from you tomorrow. If you need anything give me a call, although I won’t be able to get to your place.” Reva chuckled.

  “Stay safe, and I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Kendra erased the call from the phone then went back to pacing. She glanced one more time at the clock: 9:15 p.m. Just twelve more hours before I call Reva and meet up with them. That’s not so bad, especially since Russ isn’t—

  The back door flew open and slammed against the wall. Kendra screamed out as a gust of wind surged in and was immediately enveloped in dust as tiny rocks and grit bombarded her body. With her head bent she pushed toward the door, closing her eyes against the onslaught of fine particles. Grasping the knob, she shoved it against the wind, throwing her full weight against it as she tried to close it. The door moved as if she was dragging it through quicksand, but she couldn’t close it. Cracking her eyes open just a bit, she saw a black boot in the doorway keeping the portal from closing. Cold sweat trickled down her back as her hands grew clammy. Pounding heartbeats filled her ears as her gaze stayed steadfast on the boot.

  “Stop pushing the fuckin’ door,” a deep voice said into the wind. “Stand back, you stupid cunt.” Russ pushed the door so hard that it sent Kendra stumbling backward into the kitchen table.

  Then all at once, a loud slam expunged the sound of the howling wind, which had left dust and sand on the floor, the counter, and the table top upon its departure. Kendra’s eyes burned and began to tear from the irritation, and she rubbed her lower back where she’d hit the edge of the table. Glancing up, she met Russ’ flashing dark eyes.

  “Why the fuck were you trying to close the door on me? Do you have someone in here?” He rushed past her and went into the living room. As Kendra picked up a broom and began to sweep, she heard him kicking open closet doors.

  By the time he came back into the kitchen, she had just finished wiping down the counters. She turned to him. “I didn’t know if you were stuck somewhere. I thought the wind blew the door open. I’m glad you were able to make it home safely.” Kendra threw the dirty paper towels in the trashcan and walked by him.

  He gripped her arm and pulled her back. “That’s a load of shit and you know it. I saw the look on your face when you saw it was me. You were hoping the storm would get the better of me.”

  She pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side: his breath reeked of cheap booze and cigarettes. “You know that’s not true. I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “Liar!” Russ shook her hard like a rag doll. Her teeth chattered and the muscles in her neck screamed out in pain. “I know what you’re planning. You think you’re smarter than me? I know you’ve been fuckin’ Terry. You’re gonna run off with him, you stupid bitch!” He pushed her backward and slammed her against the kitchen wall.

  “I’m not cheating on you. Why won’t you believe me? I’ve never cheated on you. Ever since we started dating in high school, you’ve been the only man for me. You have to believe me.”

  “You’re a damn whore! I’ve told you over and over that I’ll never let you go.” He pressed his lips on hers hard, grinding into them. The dust that filled her nostrils made it hard for her to breathe, so she shoved him away as she gulped for air. “You push your husband away?” Red blotches mottled Russ’ face.

  “I couldn’t breathe. I have all this dust inside my nose from when you opened the door.” Kendra slowly inched her way across the wall.

  “Are you blaming me for that?” He grabbed her arm and yanked her back. From the look in his eyes, the way he bared his teeth, and the rigidness of his body, she braced herself for the first punch. It came fast and hard, right in her face, then his fist sank into her belly. The pain from her shattered nose reverberated through her bones as she tried to suck air into her mouth. He came back with some more punches, and she tried to push him away, but he was too strong, too angry, and too vicious.

  Every part of her body cried out in pain, but the roaring wind swallowed up her screams as he kept hitting her over and over. Soon she stopped resisting, deciding to let him get out all of his rage so he’d finally leave her alone, but this time Russ didn’t stop—instead, his hands grasped at her throat. Kendra tried to wriggle out of his grip, but it was too tight. Russ’ curled fingers pressed harder.

  She clawed at his hands and dug her fingernails into his wrists in an attempt to dislodge the hold he had around her throat, but he just kept squeezing. Looking at him, his eyes burned with emptiness and anger as the pain scorched her lungs. He’s killing me! Panic, regret, and sadness filled Kendra as her hands fell to her sides and all the energy escaped from her body. Russ’ face grew fuzzy, the room spun, and the edge of her vision went dark. In the last seconds of lucidity, shock blitzed through her: Kendra never thought Russ would actually kill her.

  Her mind grew hazy, her heart, once quickly beating, began to slow down, and the room grew smaller and smaller until it was gone.

  * * *

  The vibrant colors of late spring brightened even more under the glaring sunlight. In the background, birds chirped, lawn mowers whirred, and a gentle breeze sang through the lush trees. It was as if every living thing had conspired to show Wheelie that life would go on without Kendra. His sister was dead. Murdered by the sonofabitch he’d hated since Kendra had first brought him home when they were in high school. It shouldn’t be bright and cheery outside. It should be cold and silent and as gray and foggy as his mangled emotions.

  As Father Andrew recited prayers in a monotone voice, his mother buried her face in her hands. For Wheelie, it was painful to see her like that, but all he could do was embrace her and let the torrent of her tears soak through his shirt. He looked away from Father and concentrated on the picture of Kendra leaning on an easel to the right of her casket. Her brown eyes shone as a whisper of a smile danced across her lips. Her long dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders. It was her senior picture, and it’d been taken before Wheelie had found out Russ was beating the shit out of her. I fuckin’ let you down. He hissed a breath between clenched teeth.

  A few people surrounded the grave in a semi-circle, hanging their heads, dabbing their eyes with tissues. Behind them stood his brothers from the Insurgents MC. They wore black leather jackets, and black bandanas covered the top of their heads to show support for Wheelie. The chrome from twenty Harleys glared under the sun. As the priest continued to recite the appropriate prayers, a chapel’s bells chimed in the distance and echoed across the graveyard, informing the mourners it was four o’clock.

  Grief tore at Wheelie’s insides like a tornado as he gazed at Kendra’s brushed pink casket. All shades of pink had always been her favorite color. As he gazed at it, memories of their childhood would be forever tainted by the horror of what had happened to her. Even though the makeup artist at the mortuary had done her best in covering up the bruises, they were still there, and the scarf around her neck to cover the strangulation marks looked out of place: Kendra never wore scarves. When he’d seen what Russ had done to her, the rage that had been burning inside him since he’d found out about Kendra’s murder exploded, and the funeral director had to call the police to control him as he smashed everything he could in the viewing room.

  Suddenly it was quiet, and Father Andrew’s approach shadowed over Wheelie’s mother. For a brief moment, the priest hesitated and the lines on his face deepened, and then he reached out his hand and placed the gold crucifix in
hers. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and the sob that tore from her throat broke Wheelie’s heart. Father Andrew placed his hands on her head for a few seconds then shook Wheelie’s hand before walking over to the other mourners. His mother clutched the cross to her bosom, her chest moving up and down with her soft cries.

  A woman started singing a hymn, and Wheelie helped his mother to her feet and then wrapped his arm around her slumped shoulders as he led her to the black funeral car. The roar of motorcycles filled the air, and Wheelie nodded at the Insurgents, who held their fists in the air showing solidarity for their brother in pain. He swallowed several times, pushing down the lump in his throat.

  The car drove slowly out of the cemetery, passing gravestones as it twisted and turned around the small road. Wheelie’s mother grasped his hand and squeezed it.

  “She’s with God now. Kendra’s finally found peace,” she said in a soft voice.

  And my hell has just begun. There’s no fuckin’ way I’m letting this rest.

  As if sensing his anger, Wheelie’s mother leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Let this go. The courts will put him away. Kendra would want you to move forward and not look for revenge. I know you’re hurting … we both are, but God has taken her to a better place.” Her voice broke, and he wrapped his arm around her.

  “It’s okay, Ma.” But it wasn’t. Not at all.

  The sonofabitch better pray for a life sentence, because if he ever gets out, I’m coming for him.

  Wheelie leaned his head against the glass and stared out the window as the car merged onto the freeway.

  Chapter One

  Pinewood Springs, CO

  Ten years later

  Sofia swiped the wand of pink gloss over her lips, fluffed her hair with her fingers, and pulled up her top a bit. Tigger would never go for her wearing anything that showed off her cleavage in public. The fact that he even asked her if she wanted to go to Steeler’s on family night surprised her, but she had a strong feeling that Banger had something to do with that.